


Tread Wrecklessly

by we_are_the_story



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Confused Avengers, Gen, Harry-ception, Master of Death Harry Potter, Overpowered Harry Potter, cryptic conversations, honestly i wrote this a while ago so i don't really remember, infamous Harry, split personalities Harry Potter, strangeness, universe hopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 22:05:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16273286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_are_the_story/pseuds/we_are_the_story
Summary: The Master of Death did not leave his isolation without consequences, as is usual deal when Death is involved. Of two minds, Harry and Hadrian have travelled between dimensions for a long time. Hadrian trusts no one, but Harry trusts too much and trusting Fury can only lead to disaster. Because Fury asks something Hadrian had sworn against centuries ago.





	Tread Wrecklessly

**Author's Note:**

> This is been a fic I’ve been working on for a while now, and have finally completed it! Yay! It is the classic Master of Death Harry Potter being introduced into the Avengers to fight Loki, but with a twist. It’s definitely crack, but there are, of course, dark undertones that come with it. I hope you enjoy. Thanks for clicking on my story.  
> EDIT: it wrote this a while ago, and this was originally posted on FanFiction.net, but I swapped it over.

**Prologue**

A tea cup balanced precariously within the clutches of shaking hands.

The scalding liquid rippled violently, threatening to simply spill over the edge and burn the pale, bird-like fingers holding it.

But somehow, it never did. The water, despite the forceful way it moved, did not slosh and burn, it didn’t dare to. Perhaps it knew that if it left its confines it would harm and destroy whatever or whoever stood in its way. It understood it was destined to cause suffering even if it didn’t want to.

There was an arm chair in the middle of the room, designed for one person only. Red velvet upholstering christened the large, fluffy seat. It was not a recliner, not made for relaxing, not for napping and certainly not made for comfort. It was the only seat for the singular inhabitant of the room. The walls were plain cream, lined with no pictures or lights and bordered with white cornices and skirting-boards, the ceiling and floor made of dark oak wood. Shining from the lone coffee table right before the arm chair was the only lighting in the room; a never melting candle, constantly burning. It flickered, making eerie shadows along the walls, where the chair blocked the light, being the cause of horrific nightmares for the weak minded.

Haunted and weary, the only living thing in the room sat huddled on the red chair, just as it had been for the last 500 years, and sipped at his hot drink. It burned his mouth on the way down, punishment for all he had done.

Sad, dull green eyes peered into the murky water, not able to see where the liquid ended, or in fact where it began. To him, it had always been a mystery. Light as any other cup of tea, but the beverage came from nothing and continued to create more. Never ending. Forever hot, but the ceramic of the container itself was room temperature. Harry didn’t know if it was a magical artefact or just a normal cup with charms placed on it. Still, it was the only thing, other than the coffee table and seat, that kept his attention. The candle was just there now and he wasn’t interested in it anymore.

Tilting his head down and closing his eyes, he smiled faintly, gently.

He was content.

Unexpectedly, he heard the creaking of hinges. A door being opened. A door that hadn’t opened in centuries, and the figure wished it never would.

But it was.

Opening slowly, light penetrated the dim room and the figure’s head snapped up, eyes squinting into the rectangle of light on the wall next to him. He recoiled, falling over the chair and hurriedly backing into the farthest corner away from the door, shielding his eyes with his hand.

The tea lay forgotten on the wooden floor, liquid disappearing as fast as it spilt.

“ _Harry…”_

Harry clenched his eyes shut, squeezing his loose pants in tight fists.

He knew that voice. That voice simultaneously terrifying and comforting, soft and harsh, quiet and loud, everything in existence and nothing nothing at all, like the space between what is, what is not and what could have been. The only being that understood Harry as he was, and understood that if Harry was not locked up, he would continue to destroy that which he loved too much. The only being that gave him a room between the spaces for him to calm down and gain control of his power.

“Death?” Harry’s voice came out dispatched and frayed from disuse.

Why was he here?

“ _It is time…”_

Now Harry shook his head vigorously, pressing himself further into the wall. “No,” he whispered, tensing.

“ _Your time of solitude had ended…”_

Harry squinted his eyes open and looked at the light from the door, still trembling. “I have to stay here until I am ready to leave.” Harry paused, “and I am not ready to leave.”

“ _You are ready, Harry…”_

Harry shook his head again, pressing his eyes into his knees. “I’m not leaving,” he said, voice muffled.

“ _Come.”_

His stomach lurched as an invisible rope latched itself to his ribs and slid him forwards an inch, tugging gently at him. Kicking his legs hard against the wood, Harry pulled against the thread and returned to his position.

“I’m not in control of my magic!” Harry cried, digging in fingers into the wood. He hadn’t stayed nearly as long as he needed to. “I could still hurt someone.”

Harry resisted with all his might and the force had yet to increase it’s strength. He wanted to stay. He couldn’t go out there. He needed to stay here where everyone was safe from him.

“ _Come…”_ The voice whispered, and then the force increased, sliding Harry towards the light once again, but Harry dug his heels into the floor, head shaking, knuckles turning white.

“No,” Harry whimpered, eyes watering as he slid a metre. His hand grabbled for the chair leg right in front of him. He halted, “You can’t take me from here, Death!”

“ _You must come…”_

Harry cried out as a particularly hard tug stretched his arm, fingers slipping until he was holding only just two.

“ _Let go…”_

“No!” Harry screamed as the force gently picked his fingers from the leg and pulled. He snatched at the coffee table this time and halted once again. He wasn’t meant to leave yet, he had so much time still. He needed to stay just a little bit longer.

“ _Come…”_

“You can’t take me away! You can’t!” Harry pleaded, kicking against the hands he couldn’t see. “Please let me stay a bit longer, I like it here!”

“ _You must leave…”_

Tears leaked out and Harry sobbed as his fingers slipped clear, “Please, don’t! I can’t go out there! I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t!”

Harry scrabbled on the floor, digging his fingers in, nails giving way, leaving bloody trails. He felt nothing except the horrifying realisation that he would be leaving this place forever, returning to an existence he didn’t deserve. He scrambled for purchase, catching nothing, grabbing nothing and he was dragged gently evermore towards departure.

“No, please,” Harry wailed. “Please! Don’t take me away!”

_“You are ready. . .”_

Harry could grab nothing else, and watched with panic as his sanctuary was steadily getting further and further away. Taken away for good.

“NO!” He shrieked, hands grabbing the architraves of the door.

Death peeled Harry’s bloodied hands away.

The white encased him.

**Chapter One**

The night was quiet in a lonely street somewhere in London

Occasionally, a drunk person would stumble from an almost empty bar. Laughing and shaking their head, the drunk person’s friend would follow, sober, and lead their friend towards their beat-up old car that needed three tries to start.

The pavement was damp from the earlier rain and puddles spotted with the on-coming downpour that would inevitably start and drown the friends walking/stumbling towards their vehicle.

They would soon be interrupted.

A flash lit up the street, blinding the two people, reflected on the puddles by their feet, and a man fell from the crack in time and space right onto the pavement.

Groaning, he pushed himself up by his hands, arms shaking, before sitting up on his knees, panting, sweaty, sobbing.

The sober friend whispered to the drunk one and gently lead him to the car, putting his seatbelt on, then approached the crying man with great caution.

“Hello?” she asked, as if the man couldn’t hear. “Do you need help or something?”

“No.” He laughed darkly, voice void of feeling. Void of emotion.

The girl blinked, stopping short. “No? Well – “

He lifted his head and she saw two people flitting in his face. Interchanging between slack-faced and without feeling, to tense and crying. “I’m sorry, Hayley.”

Her eyes widened.

Her name from a stranger she had never met, never told her name to and yet he said it without hesitation, without faltering as if absolutely sure that was her name.

The man stood, legs between trembling and steady. She noticed a strap across his chest, leading to a satchel that didn’t look like it had anything in it. He wore funny clothing, like that a wizard would wear if they existed, cracked glasses rested on his nose and the pattern of lightning covered most of his forehead, broken up by the gravity defying hair the man had. Emerald green and yet very dull eyes stared at her.

“Where am I?” The stone-faced man asked.

She frowned. “London.”

His expression faltered, his lips wobbling, “I’m sorry, Hayley. I didn’t want to interrupt you. Go help your friend.”

Hayley glanced over her shoulder for a fleeting second, at her friend that was trying to open the car door but failing because Hayley had locked it. Her friend was too drunk to think about unlocking it from the inside.

Then turned back around.

There was nothing but empty pavement, the streetlight casting shadows on the ground from the foliage above her. Nothing indicated the man ran off; she had heard nothing. But it was impossible to disappear into thin air.

But she had already seen him appear from thin air, so how did he –

She forgot what she was doing and blinked away the confusion. Why was she standing in the middle of the street?

Her car honked and she startled, spinning around to find her friend grinning manically, dancing to music neither of them could hear.

Hayley smiled faintly, the feeling of being watched sending shivers down her spine.

She walked back to the car to join her friend and take him home.

Harry Potter and Hadrian James Potter-Black-Peverell did not in fact disappear into thin air. They remained hidden behind the Cloak of Invisibility right where they stood. Silent, still. In their hand lay a wand and it was warm to the touch, the just cast Obliviate the first spell they’d casted using the Elder wand since it had allied with them.

Hadrian shoved the wand back into the satchel and watched as the two friends drove away.

**Chapter Two**

_Undeniably 461 Worlds and an estimated -600 years after Death dragged Harry and Hadrian back to the land of the living (Ironic), give or take a little. I mean, who’s counting? Note – worlds and time aren’t always in sync. Harry and Hadrian once ended up in the equivalent of ancient Egypt 278 worlds prior to this one. What a crazy time. But then people died and it wasn’t so great. It’s been a lot longer than 500 years for them, though, since their personalities split._

The sun beat down from high in the sky, right through the thick glass Harry was currently looking out of, mouth pulled into a grin as people walked by the coffee shop. There was nothing fancy about the place, or the people walking past it. Nothing fascinating about the (black and white and red) décor or the (breakfast and lunch and dinner) food, the (quiet and calm and eating) adults or the (loud and boisterous and eating, too) children, the (sunny and warm and lovely) weather or the (relaxing and welcoming and happy) atmosphere and yet Harry sat.

Satchel still looking like there’s nothing in it propped against the glass, protected from anyone that might try to steal it. A cup with finite tea inside, growing colder by the second, only halfway drunk.

Harry sighed, resting his chin on his palm, oblivious of the chatter around him, or the wary glances from those who looked over. Even people who had no idea who he was seemed to understand he should not be messed with, directly or indirectly.

A new world, a new beginning.

Hadrian groaned inside his head, _I hate beginning a new world, Harry._

“I don’t.” Harry sighed, “You know what’s great about beginning again?”

_…what?_

“Nobody knows us here, but we know everyone,” Harry said, stirring his tea, watching the whirlpool form. The spoon rang like music inside the ceramic cup. “We know their names and their destinies, but they don’t know even know our favourite colour.”

We _don’t even know our favourite colour._

“They don’t know that.”

_There’s absolutely no logic in that at all._

“Whatever.”

Harry downed the rest of his tea, stood from the chair, satchel over his shoulder and sauntered out of the café, almost tripping over his loose laces. He made it out and onto the busy street the café was attached to.

In the middle of Washington DC.

The lights for the crossing turned red for the cars, but green for the people and Harry walked to the other side of the road, where he continued to follow the same pavement until he was well on the other side of the city.

Where his favourite bookshop lay in wait for him to sieve through the latest releases and buy as many as he needed.

The bell above the door rung as he swung it open and the girl at the front desk lifted her head slowly, short hair falling in her face.

“Hey, man,” she grinned. “How’s it going today?”

Harry nodded, “Great, Janite!”

Her name wasn’t Janite, but she didn’t falter, instead pointed to the back room. “They’re waiting for you.”

Beaming, he wove around the counter, dodging hug-wanting arms and slipping to the back, where he spotted three boxes labelled _new_.

Harry fell to his knees, all but ripping the box open to peer into the brand-new collection of just released books. He stuck his hand in the box and pulled out the first book.

***

Amity hummed as she adjusted the books on the shelf slightly so the spines lined up perfectly, checking that they were in order of author then title and not just alphabet in regards to title, as her trainee had done her first week.

What a disaster.

She lifted her head as she heard the door opening again, only to snap her mouth closed, halting the usual greeting of ‘Hello how are you today?’.

A tall black man with a long black cloak and an eye-patch stepped into the store, his exposed eyeball swivelling from one side of the shop to the other, seeming to look for anyone that might dare interrupt.

“I need to speak with Harry Potter,” he said without checking he was even there.

Her brows furrowed. “I’m sorry?”

“Harry Potter is out the back, correct?” He growled, “I need to talk to him. I’m the head of SHEILD.”

She straightened, setting her feet. “Frankly I don’t give a shit if you’re some important asshole with no sense of the word no, I’m going to have to ask you to leave, because anyone that knows Harry also knows that he likes to be alone when he’s looking at books. I don’t know why, but I respect it and I allow him that time. So if you again demand to talk to him again, I’m afraid the outcome won’t be pretty, Agent What’syourface.”

For a moment, the book shop was silent as the SHEILD man-thing with the eye patch stared down the smaller girl with frizzy hair and skin almost the same shade as his, while the girl did not waver in her own glaring.

The door behind her cracked open and Hadrian’s voice said, “It’s alright, Amity. I’ll talk to him.”

The black man cast his eye over Harry’s continuously strange attire, noticing the voice and the clothes did not match. “Mister Potter if you would follow me – “

Hadrian planted his feet. “That’s Mister Potter-Black-Peverell, to you,” he said. “And no, we’ll have this conversation right here, in front of Miss Bragnen.”

Amity rolled her eyes to the ceiling. He was always doing things on principle. Tell him to do something and he will do the exact opposite.

She saw the waves of fury crash into his patience.

“Mister Potter, we have been keeping an eye on you for years and we have left you alone because you have not harmed anyone, but for weeks we have been trying to catch up to you. Every time you escape. But you are coming in this time.” Fury lunged, but Hadrian was quicker.

Hadrian ducked and send a jolt of Crucio through the big man before dissaparating. The wind of which managed to ruffle the books on the counter. At least, Amity thought it was the wind because she was too caught up on the fact that her friend was some kind of superhero/villain/SHEILD agent, actually magical and still as insane as she thought he was the second he walked into her shop in the middle of the day asking after cook books for cats even though he didn’t like cats and didn’t have one.

But she turned her attention from the now empty space beside her, to the big man in the middle of her store. People were turning and staring into the big windows at the intimidating man in her normally quaint, quiet shop. Amity planted her feet and fixed her gaze.

“You are going to leave, now,” she said firmly, staking forwards. She was nothing if not loyal. Amily began shoving him towards the door, surprisingly strong for someone much smaller than the average person. “I will not have you disturbing some people’s quiet space with your – your – you know what I’m talking about. Go.”

“Tell me when Mister Potter comes back,” he growled, very reluctantly opened the door and stepped back onto the street.

People stared at him, and at the woman now standing on the threshold of the previously unknown bookshop.

“I don’t think he will, thanks to you!” She poked his chest with her spindly finger and looked up at him. “He will never return here. I won’t ever see him again because that’s the kind of person he is. He won’t allow others to be hurt and because of his complete stupidity he believes I will be caught up in whatever the fuck all this is.”

Amity glared at him for a moment longer, letting the implication imbed into the tall man’s brain.

She sneered, turned on her heel and stormed back into the store, the open sign smacking back into the glass as she slammed the door.

***

Harry reappeared through an invisible crack in the folds of space, stumbled and fell straight onto his apartment floor. Hadrian was up in an instant and glaring around his obviously empty apartment, searching for threats that weren’t there. He straightened from his crouch.

Harry battered in their head, but Hadrian gritted his teeth.

_Why did you leave? That man was friendly!_

Hadrian growled, “That man was Fury. You remember him, don’t you. From our fifty-eighth shift? He was the one that locked us up.”

_It’s different in each shift, Hadrian._

Hadrian dug into his satchel and pulled out a shot bullet.

Harry recoiled, but Hadrian held still, holding it before them, cradled in his palm. “You remember this, don’t you? You remember the registration of his gun, the speed at which this bullet flew through the air and yet I shifted away just in time. You remember the hole it left in the wall, don’t you? You remember everything, Harry, so why do you forgive so easily?”

_I forgive others because I cannot forgive myself._

Hadrian shoved the bullet back. “Will nothing show you? I feel as if you don’t understand anything sometimes, but I know you. I know myself. We know each other because we can never stop understanding and – “

_You remember the screaming. You remember the blood. You remember the forgiveness in their own eyes because they saw. They saw what was happening to you and forgave your mistakes even as the lights left their eyes. But that’s what you remember._

“ _Your_ mistakes, Harry. You love too much, too quickly.”

_For you, everything happens too quickly._

Hadrian gritted his teeth. “Perhaps it’s better that way.”

_Better to have loved and lost than to have loved at all?_

“Better to have walked away before you could meet eyes, Harry.”

_Better to have left a world intact than in ruins, you mean._

Hadrian didn’t say anything for a moment, and for a moment the apartment was silence and they could hear the cars on the streets, people laughing as they left the bar across the street, pedestrian crossings beeping. The sun shining through the windows.

Harry forced himself through. “I’m going for a walk.”

**Chapter Three**

They had been walking for hours and Hadrian didn’t know exactly how long, but knew the sun had set. The people wandering the streets here didn’t spare him a glance, either too high or too drunk to care or wonder what the hell a man was doing wandering the streets at this time of the night neither high or drunk. Nevertheless, Harry strolled with a skip in his step along the footpath next to a park with a number of thirsty looking trees.

The night was as silent as night could be.

Harry heard, occasionally, cars driving past, streets over, and toot their horns at something Harry was sure was petty and ridiculous. Cars were stilly things anyway. Why have them? Why not walk? It’s good exercise and reduces the carbon footprint. Gets people out into the sunshine. Getting that vitamin D. Harry remembered it was night and the sun wasn’t up now anyway, but the point still stood. Do people not enjoy the sunshine anymore? The sunshine is good.

_Harry. . ._

Harry blinked slowly as he dragged his pink converse covered feet along the cracked sidewalk. He was dressed as he usually was: strangely, queerly, weirdly. He knew it was weird and strange and queer because Hadrian constantly remined him of the fact. And he knew others thought he was weird and queer and strange because he got strange, weird, queer looks as he wove through crowds of people during the day.

Even Harry didn’t know why he liked to wear bright and miss-matched clothing. He also didn’t understand why he couldn’t remember the time before he’d appeared in front of those Muggles the first time, but could remember every unpleasant detail from that moment.

A black, unremarkable car drove beside him except it didn’t move on. It didn’t drive off and go on its errands and buy the shopping or one of those fancy Muggle technology things that Muggles seem to really like in this shift. The car matched his speed, or rather the person in the car, the driver was matching his speed. No more than a crawl so it was obvious that it was following him and Harry’s palms began sweating. Why was there a car following them? Why this time of night? And just after the New Fury had caught up to them? Why?

He heard the door open.  

_Run!_

Harry sucked in a breath, and took off running as fast as he could, knowing Hadrian would not be terrified of imagined threats. The car followed, but not before someone jumped out, and the door slammed just as a man sprinted for Harry. He heard the clink of an arrow being loaded. They’re going to be shot –

_Faster. Run faster, Harry. Keep running as far as you can, you are fast, you are strong. You can disappear. . ._

The man hesitated.

Harry could disappear right now from this world and make a new life, but this world was good for him. What about Margarette? He could go home immediately and flee from this terrifying thing, this frightening thing that was happening to him right now, he could leave and never come back for the bad men to find him. He could do so many things.

Harry spun around, his shoulder bag floundering for a moment, flying in the air and nearly taking his neck off in the process, paused just long enough to see an arrow fly at him and a flash of glowing blue before he disappeared through the air with a crack.

The arrow skimmed the tree behind him and sunk into the next one with a harmless thunk.

***

_Go pack up everything. Do it, Harry. You must flee, you must flee from here they are after you they know something about us we never wanted known. . ._

Hadrian’s rambling had Harry flying around their small apartment, waving his hand around the air to make objects sprint into the open bag in the middle of the lounge room floor. The furniture had already gone into the expanded space. Another few minutes and everything else should be in there, too.

He flounced into his wardrobe, narrowly dodging a flying shoe and crouched down on the floor. There was a hook on the floor made of a light silver that lay flush with the wood, but he lifted the carpet so he could grab hold and tugged the hidden compartment’s lid up to rest against the wall. Harry took out the slippery material and flung it around himself, the long wooden stick slid into the holster already in place around his forearm and the small pebble he tucks into the hidden pocket in the invisibility cloak that he’d found in his second dimension. Then Harry violently let go of the door and set everything to right before walking back into the living room, where the bag sat in the same position and size as it would be if it had nothing in it at all.

Just as the last few objects fly into the bag, Harry picked it up and put it on his shoulder, the cloak over the top, before completely covering himself in the cloak and slipping out the apartment, locking it behind him.

He scuttled down the hall and descended the stairs quickly and quietly. Neither of them liked elevators and were glad to find an excuse not to use it; it would waste too much time. Besides, the bad men would probably use the elevator.

The night was still cold, the air crisp and biting, but he headed towards the outskirts of the city, invisible to everything but Moody’s Mad Eye. Harry supposed it was classified as morning now, considering it was well after three o’clock in the morning. Harry didn’t find himself tired, but struggled to find the energy to stop his legs from trembling.

Harry shook with every laboured breath, a cloud of condensation puffing out in front of him, but the Hadrian inside his head had always been encouraging.

_You can do it Harry, it’s alright. I can take over if you want, it’s your choice. You’re doing so well, Harry. Keep going, just a little bit further._

Harry shivered and tugged the cloak further around himself as rain started to fall. He cast a waterproof charm around himself and kept his head down.

_You’re doing so good Harry, keep going._

Keep going you can do it it’s alright Harry you can do it I know you can I know you are strong as I am just in a different way.

Harry knew the unsaid words.

Had memorised them long ago. Maybe this was too much for them. Maybe they needed Nicolas Joseph Fury.

Silence then,

_We don’t need fury._

And finally,

_Let me take over you’re going to make us go into shock._

**Chapter Four**

_Another city, another street a few days later. They have already established themselves in this new city. They probably shouldn’t have; they knew they’d be leaving soon anyway._

He knew where he was, knew exactly what city he was in. New York.

The city that never sleeps. But he was walking along the sidewalk of a quiet street and there was no one around, so this part of the city definitely slept, but what about the ones in the middle of the city? What about that massive building named _Stark_? They didn’t appear to ever sleep. But this street did.

He was in the same dimension, that was obvious. He wasn’t tired as he normally was after each shift. A kind of tired that knocked him out for weeks, but he was wide awake and staring at his feet, at the cracks in the sidewalk.

Harry thought about the girl me met centuries back who liked darkness so much she became it, and the eventual death of her because she didn’t know how to survive without air. She was a lovely girl and near the end of her struggling Harry wandered if he’d caused her death by turning her into a husk. Another death to his name, another person robbed of life because he couldn’t control himself.

But she was the first one in a long while who wanted to listen to what he had to say, who wasn’t scared of him and what he represented. Because, ultimately, he represented Death and all it entailed and sometimes people are scared. But this girl wasn’t and the scars on her arms were plenty, but beautiful. She didn’t fear him, she embraced him.

Dark jeans hugged his legs like a second skin. The Universe as it was at that moment in time was shown on it, moving and twisting how it usually did. The universe in this place was different to what it was in his original world, but not vastly different. The last world was interesting but nobody loved him there and by the time the world was doomed to die Hadrian felt he couldn’t care anymore. Not about this world or any of the ones that dared ask for help when their hatred of him outshone their faith in their Gods.

“Are you a Quiddich player?” was written in print on the front of his orange shirt, and on the back, “Because you look like a keeper!” The people of non-magical descent never understood it, but he’d carried it in his satchel ever since Death gave it to them on Harry’s request during that first world. It had lasted just as long and couldn’t bear to part with it despite the lack of understanding the Muggles meet it with. On his feet rested pink converse shoes and rainbow socks that peeked between the end of his pants and the top of his shoes and ended in the middle of his calves. Too many bangles hung from his wrists and scratches from the pointy ends of them were layered over each other under the bracelets and unseen by all but him. A brown satchel over his shoulder, containing enough to last in a desert ruin for centuries completed the look.

Whistling mindlessly and kicking a stone every now and again, he noticed the car that pulled up beside him, knowing friend from foe this time. This was not Arrow Man, nor a hostile force, but his head pounded as Hadrian threw himself around their head.

_Go, he’s after us!_

Harry glared into the darkness, the lamps casting a shadow in front of him as he walked. He tried to ignore Hadrian.

_We don’t want to talk to this person, this person is bad!_

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Harry whined and stomped his foot, coming to a stop even as Fury stepped out the car and approached Harry from behind.

_Run please for the love of all things out there run!_

“No,” Harry crossed his arms and pouted, before spinning around just as Fury was about to touch his shoulder. For Hadrian, he would stop unwanted human contact. Headaches were the worst. Especially Hadrian induced.

_Oh, now you’ve done it!_

Without a word, they gaze at each other, sizing the other up, each knowing who would win a battle in seconds. Harry beamed and held up his hand for a high five, laughing hysterically.

“Nicolas Joseph Fury!” Harry cried, reluctantly lowering his hand as Fury just stared at his hand. “How are you this fine midnight?”

Fury’s lips twitch downwards, “I’m very well think you, Harry.”

“I have not seen you since the bookstore! How are you? Are you good? I hope you’re good! Because right now my excitement levels are, like, sky high! I was just thinking about you the other night while I was cooking tea. It was a mix of spaghetti bolognaise and fish and chips, I thought it would turn out brilliant but it _didn’t_. It was _disgusting_. But anyway, I thought if you were there you’d be able to share by bad cooking skills. And a couple of hours ago I was-”

Harry took a great big breath of air and continued.

“-making some hot chocolate and I was wondering what kind of beverages you’d like because I think you might be a bitter coffee person, but I thought someone with the same badass aura about him would like bitter coffee, too. Turns out he liked green tea with five spoons of sugar. So what do you like?”

Fury blinked.

Hadrian groaned inside their head. Harry was always insistently annoying to anyone that looked at him. Hadrian didn’t know if it was a defence mechanism, or how Harry truly was. He thought it was a mix of both, because Harry was not that silly. No way. Harry was smart and courageous. He was not this man standing before Fury.

“Harry, could I talk to Lord Potter-Black for a moment please,” Fury interrupted Harry’s rambling without answering his question.

“OH!” Harry exclaimed, before nodding excitedly, “Sure just-“

His eyes closed for a moment, softly, before screwing tightly shut. Then suddenly they opened and a sane intense gaze met Fury’s head on. The green eyes seemed duller than before, more lifeless and hard than Fury had ever seen in any man, including himself.

“I would appreciate it if you would refrain from treating Harry like he’s stupid and a child to stomp all over.” The ancient tone of a myth hissed through the mouth of someone who shouldn’t ever sound like that. “If he asks you questions you answer them, if he smiles at you, your smile back. You treat him with as much fearful respect as you treat me with or you will find yourself another hero.”

Hadrian turned on his heels and immediately began walking away from the tall African-American but tripped over a tangle of laces. He caught himself and stumbled over air before coming to a stop, his back straight and tense. Red did not flush him from head to toe, but frustration did.

“God dammit Harry,” he hissed quietly and flicked his wrist to tie the laces.

“Does this mean you’re going to help?” Fury asked.

Hadrian turned around slowly, glare fixed in place. “I may or I may not. But it depends on what Harry wants. It depends on whether you’re going to manipulate the rest of the team into helping because I can’t trust you. I won’t trust you.”

“Other people trust me to save the world from extra-terrestrials, why can’t you trust me to be genuine and not the psychotic man you think I am.”

“Think you are?” Hadrian said. “I know you are.”

“Why do you trust me so little?” Nick Fury demands.

“Because I have saved the world too many times,” Harry said lowly, anger creeping into his tone. “For you to come here and ask it of me again. Ask me to risk my life for a world I wasn’t even born on, a world I could easily leave. And would, too if Harry didn’t like you so fucking much.”

“But we are fighting for ourselves,” Fury counters, gesturing to nowhere in particular. “You can die and we have a team of highly adept people who are willing to fight. But Hadrian they’re -“

“That’s Potter to you.”

“Potter, then. They’re going to struggle and more lives will be lost if you do not help us, help this world survive from a plague of aliens that do not belong on this planet-“

“By that philosophy, I don’t belong here either, Fury.”

“You were born on a planet as similar to this one as sea water is similar to fresh water-“

“Does that make my planet filled with salty bitter creatures?”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

Hadrian smirks, “My bet is that you forced them into it. If not forced then threatened, bribed, or black-mailed them which is no better than taking away their loved ones and using them as human shields to surrender.”

He had almost done so once.

Fury steps forwards, “I assure you, Potter, that the men I have enlisted have come on their own choices and I have done nothing to influence their decisions. I can ask them to come here and assure the truth of my words, but until then you’ll have to trust that I’m not one for black-mail, just secrets. We need you, Potter. The fate of the world relies on the team to defeat the greatest threat-“

Hadrian stalked forwards until he was in Fury’s face, “No. The greatest threat to this world is _myself_. You and I both know that. So why don’t you leave that title for when it is needed. Like when I decide that I no longer want to live on this world.”

“You and I both know that you love this world almost as much as your first one.”

Hadrian stood his ground but had agony in his heart and nothing in his eyes as Harry began sobbing in their head. Nothing could compare to that first world.

“You and I both know that you wouldn’t let this world cripple because of your stubbornness.”

Hadrian’s voice was like steel when he spoke next. “You and I both understand that as soon as I know that this world won’t hold, I’m going to leave your sorry arses behind and I’m going to be laughing the whole time. But for this world – for Harry’s love of this world – I’m going to do what I can, but don’t come looking for me until I allow myself to be seen by your eyes or you will find yourself with another threat to this world to worry about, making Loki look like a toddler having a tantrum.”

And with that promise, Hadrian spun around and stormed away before shifting into the darkness between the folds of space, disappearing from Fury’s view and radar.

Cursing furiously, Fury turned and strode back to the car and drove away.

***

_How can I be here?_

_I swear I am older than 24, I know I am older because my dreams are full of memories I don’t recall. I don’t know what is real and what is not. I can’t tell if it is dark or if he is dark or if the voices are dark but they help him when everyone else just sneers._

_We woke up in the middle of a street, satchel full of all their belongings. But he doesn’t know how old he is where he came from what his name was, but Hadrian knew, Hadrian knew things I didn’t. He knew how they got here but he would never tell._

_It’s alright Harry you can do it I know you can you are strong you can fight you can survive._

_“I am not like you Hadrian. My heart bleeds black.”_

**Chapter Five**

_Are you sure this is a good idea, Hadrian?_

“Of course I’m bloody sure, Harry. Don’t be naïve,” Hadrian muttered as he toed off the stupid pink shoes. “God why do you dress so weird?”

_What’s wrong with the way I dress?_

“It’s stupid is what it is.”

_Hey! I resent that!_

“Of course you do you prat.”

_How long are you going keep to your word?_

“As long as it takes for you to start hating this world. You love things too fiercely, too much at once and the fire burns out, so stop loving it. You need to stop loving this world if I am to save it. If you really love it, you need to think of the bad things about it to balance out your infatuation.”

_I’ll try._

“You’ll do more than try, Harry. You will.”

_I don’t mean to._

“I know you don’t, so I’m going to stay in control for as long as I can until the battle is won and I get my thanks. Until then, work on hating it.”

_Okay._

“Okay?”

_Alright, I’ll do it. Merlin!_

“Because I can’t have you surfacing and accidentally blowing the planet to pieces.”

Hadrian snorted into his sleeve as he walked down the sidewalk. He probably would have looked crazy, talking to himself, if it weren’t for the phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder. There were people everywhere, and Hadrian walked with his back straight, his stride strong and his gaze piercing into anyone that dared look at him too long. He was wearing clothing that was completely different to what Harry normally wore, with black jeans, black shirt, black boots, black leather jacket, his hair in its usual disarray. The same satchel on his shoulder bounced with every step he takes, a complete turnaround to his whole attire, contrasting with a confusing mix of styles; dark brooding and nerdish gamer.

He’s on his way to the library to check out the latest books for Harry to read, because he knew how important they were to him.

_Damn right they’re important_

“You have your guilty pleasures, I have mine,” Hadrian said simply, as he pushed the door open softly. He took in the quiet atmosphere, the wandering students browsing the shelves for one thing or another and headed towards the new books, scanning the shelves so Harry could see them.

 _My guilty pleasures don’t include leaving a planet to die,_ Harry said quietly, as he looked at the covers.

“At least I don’t kill anyone when I love it too much,” Hadrian retorted.

A spark of anger shot through Hadrian’s head and he groaned.

_That wasn’t fair Hadrian._

“I’m sorry,” Hadrian apologised. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

 _Yes, you did. I feel your thoughts._ The anger faded into resignation. _Show me that one._

Harry absently picked up the book and scanned it before curling his lip.

_This one. Get this one._

Hadrian rolled his eyes to the ceiling, “Seriously? This is like heavy romance, Harry!”

_I want to read it!_

“Fine,” Hadrian sighed and eyed another one he knew spiked Harry’s interests.

 _That’s all,_ Harry said.

Hadrian turned around and smacked into a hard chest before fading into his mind, the fright allowing Harry to take over and hold it.

Harry blinked up at the man. Mid-fifties perhaps, though high military experience kept him in shape by the stance of him. It was like looking at another Hadrian but older and not as handsome.

_You just called yourself attractive and me attractive. I’m honestly not sure what to feel about that._

“Hadrian Potter-Black?”

Harry grinned in understanding, hugging the books to his chest in excitement, “Hi! I’m not Hadrian, I’m Harry! But I can talk for the both of us, just let me borrow these books and return the ones in my bag. Okay? Good.”

Harry skipped to the desk and offered the woman the books, “I’d like to borrow these, please!”

“Sure. You got the card?” the woman said, snapping her gum with her hand out, a bored expression on her face. Harry suspected she had Minesweeper on her computer at that very moment in time, but couldn’t blame her. He’d once played it for twenty-four hours straight without break in a universe where Minesweeper was the reason people lived.

Harry handed over his card quickly and as she was doing that went and slipped the books into the return slot, coming back just as she’d finishing putting them through the machine and was printing off the recept.

“Here you go, Kid,” she said, smiling faintly having realised finally that it was her favourite customer she was scanning books for. Her face turned serious, her voice low, “There’s a man behind you and I don’t know what he’s doing. Did you want me to call the cops?”

Harry shook his head vehemently, “No, no, no we know him. We’re going to have tea later.”

The woman’s eyebrows rose and fell in quick succession, “He’s a lot older than you, isn’t he?” She sounded more fascinated than horrified. Harry didn’t know what this world had come to if twenty something year old girls were less creeped out and more riveted by the thought of another twenty something boy going out with a middle aged man. Harry glanced back towards Coulson before facing the woman again.

Harry giggled, “No, silly! He’s Phil Coulson, keeper of The Six People Who Really Like Shwarma.” Harry leant forwards, “And he wants to recruit me, but Hadrian is very, very against it and is only agreeing because _I_ want this world safe.”

“That doesn’t answer the question,” She replied, thinking his stories were made up, but not know they were real.

“You’re so silly, Maybaleen!” That wasn’t her name either, but Harry flounced away, the books already carefully placed in his bag, grabbing Agent Coulson’s hand and tugging him along before leaving the library.

For forty-five minutes, Harry leads them around the City, turning various corners and striding across streets that Coulson has been to before because he had been everywhere there was to go in his line of occupation. Through tiny, dark alleyways, with obviously dangerous people doing nothing but avoiding Harry like the plague, they walked. Phil kept silent, knowing how this man worked. At least how Harry worked. Hadrian was another matter entirely. Eventually, they arrived to a tall, rundown apartment that wasn’t their original place of residence, having moved away and rented another after the bad man tried to kill them. This was on the other side of the City entirely. Harry dragged Coulson up the stairs and, sensing the man’s slight distaste, ignores the dead rat just outside his door in favour of opening it and stepping inside.

“Hello, MTV, welcome to my crib!” Harry giggled, and immediately began bustling around the apartment. He filled the kettle and plugged it into the electrical socket, before twisting his wrist and cups floated out, landing in front of him. He paused, “Tea or coffee?”

“Coffee, please, Mr Potter,” the man replied. “Milk, no sugar.”

Harry hums as he stands stock still while the ground coffee beans dispelled from above him one my one and one tea bag sunk into the other cup seemingly from nowhere. The milk arrived, then he did nothing but wait for the water to boil. “Pity. I thought you were a tea man. I suppose no one is exactly as they seem.”

“That sounds like a quote.”

“It’s not,” Harry retorted, but needing to clarify, continued with, “At least, I think it’s not. It might be, you know? If someone in some other time, in some other place said that, I guess it would be a quote, but not a quote like the famous one of Shakespeare: to be or not to be that is the question.”

Silence reigned strong for a beat, until the kettle clicked and Harry immediately poured the water into the two cups, carefully so the water would not spill onto the counter. The water splashed up onto Harry’s hands anyway and stung for a moment. He ignored it and steadily floated the drinks to the coffee table for them to drink.

Harry sat across from the man and stared at him waiting for Coulson to drink the coffee. Why Harry would want to see how it tasted to him, Coulson didn’t know but he took a sip of the scalding beverage anyway. Instantly, Harry’s expression intensified. Swallowing thickly against the burning sensation in his mouth, his tongue feeling blistering in the wake of the still boiling water, he placed the cup down of the table. “It’s very. . .hot.”

“Thank you!” Harry beamed, before sighing at nothing. “I know, Hadrian, but I wanted him to feel comfortable before I asked him.”

It was whispered calmly, as if consoling a child. Harry sighed again and closed his eyes, squeezing them tight.

Coulson had never seen this man change personalities before and was disappointed when it was over without any kind of speciality, just the blink of an eye and hard green eyes stared back at him. He now understood why Fury had always been fearful of him when he’d never feared anything else before in his life. Loki would fear this man, if he even was a man.

“I warned Fury that if he approached us before we were ready, I wouldn’t go. Now it’s on you.”

“I’m not here on Fury’s orders.”

Hadrian leaned forwards, “Then why are you here?”

“I’m here because a friend of mine wanted to give this to you,” Coulson dug into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a flat package wrapped in paper with radish imprints. He placed it on the coffee table between them.

Hadrian stared at the parcel. What could someone ever need to give to him?

“They also said to tell you: _You’re just as sane as I am._ ”

They breathed as one, “ _Luna. . .”_

Harry lunged for the gift and teared into it, fighting the tears that were ready to come.

Inside lay a piece of mirror that reflected the lights in his eyes and he knew what this was. He knew exactly what this would do.

“Harry James Potter,” Hadrian whispered.

The surface rippled and distorted his own face before fading.

And green eyes stared back at him, glasses perched on his nose. This was not Hadrian. This was not Harry. At least not the ones in the room with Coulson.

The boy in the mirror was this world’s Harry Potter.

Which meant –

“The Wizarding World is in this dimension,” Coulson smiled faintly at Hadrian and Harry’s quick swapping as they both marvelled at the gift they had been given.

“ _It rung,”_ the face in the mirror muttered. “ _But why am I seeing myself?”_

Hadrian turned the mirror over and put it on the coffee table.

“We’re coming with you when you leave.”

**Chapter Six**

The plane they were on hung in the air and travelled at a rate that Harry didn’t want to count, but the pilots had to so they knew where they were going and how long it would take them to get there. Harry thought it would be an exhausting job; having the lives of their passengers in their hands, especially when it included Phil Coulson, Captain America and the Master of Death. But everyone had to have a menial job at one point in their lives of they would learn nothing of what the rest of the world did. Even Harry and Hadrian, who, even though they had the same job (as an ice cream shop staff in Australia where it never snowed, and the summer was like a furnace, even reaching 45 degrees Celsius on its hottest day (and whose boss was constantly confused by the changing demeanour of his hardest worker and most popular staff with the customers, along with the constantly changing style of clothes) for which they just stayed in front of the fan for the whole day and part of the night when he actually needed to sleep) had learned something.

Harry sat next to the blond who was looking intensely at a high-tech computer that had no keys to type with nor an obvious on button, but was watching something anyway with screams and roaring that seemed to matter to whatever they were going to be fighting in the next few days. Or weeks depending on how long it would take.

“We’re about forty minutes from home base, Sir,” One of the pilots said.

Coulson nodded acknowledgement just before the man next to Harry seemed to come to a conclusion even as the film was still rolling.

“So this Doctor Banner was trying to replicate the serum used on me?” He asked Coulson.

Coulson smiled grimly, “A lot of people were. You were the world’s first super hero. Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Reinstein’s original formula.”

“Didn’t really go his way did it?”

“Not so much. When he’s not that thing though he’s like a Stephen Hawking,” Coulson chuckles. Rogers’ brows pinched in confusion. “He’s like a smart person.”

Harry tried not to peek at the screen but did anyway, seeing a big green thing raging at a city. He screwed his face up and turned away.

_It’s nothing we haven’t seen before._

“It’s unnatural is what it is,” Harry murmured, crossing his arms and scowling at the opposite side of the plane where three empty seats lined the wall. Maybe there were people there; spirits of the dead. Harry giggled.

_On the contrary. It’s science, therefore it is natural._

“Are you saying that because we were born with magic that we’re unnatural?”

_I – oh. . . I see your point, Harry. But Banner was doing what he thought was right._

“Voldemort did what he thought was right, but that never stopped him.”

_Okay. Let’s agree that we’re always going to be arguing about this and stop._

“But what if I want to argue?”

Harry either didn’t notice the cautious look he was getting from the blonde next to him or was ignoring it. Whatever the case, Steve was getting increasingly weirded out from the young man that looked like he’d fall over from a strong wind, let along fight.

“I’ve got to say, it’s an honour to meet you officially,” Coulson paused. “I sort of met you – I mean I watched you but you were sleeping.” Both headed towards the front of the plane and away from Harry while Phil was still talking and Harry could see the awkwardness in both their faces. “I mean I was - I was present while you were unconscious from the ice. You know it’s really – “

Harry snickered.

“It’s just a huge honour to have you on board.”

Rogers glanced towards Harry who was still talking to himself, then looked back to Coulson, “Well, I’m hoping I’m the man for the job.”

“Oh, you are. Absolutely.”

Hadrian quirked an eye brow, “I never thought you to suck up to anyone Coulson.”

Rogers jolted at the obvious change in Harry’s – who was now Hadrian’s – voice, and the change in demeanour. From a lost and wandering gaze to a straight hard leer of a man too long lived and who had seen too much hardship.

“Do you know who Captain America is Hadrian?” Coulson asked.

Hadrian ran his eyes up and down Steve, “Nah, can’t say that I have.”

Steve wasn’t usually a man who was stumped when people didn’t know who he was, but to have his circumstances blown across the globe, it was highly unlikely for someone _not_ to know who he was. Sure, before the ice people often had no idea who he was, but now-?

Now was a different story.

“How do you not know?” Steve wandered aloud.

“It might have something to do with not caring about what this world goes on about.”

“Not caring – !” Rogers began.

“When you have lived in enough worlds, you find they begin to blur together like the days you’re alive, and it’s not until the last days that you realise you have wasted everything you’ve ever done. Everything you’ve ever cared about and cherished was for naught. I suppose it’s like that for me, but now I find I have something to care about in this world, and, ironically enough, it’s because of this mission that I found it. Even though at the beginning I only wanted to do it because Harry had begun to care about this world.”

Steve was confused. Wasn’t this guy’s name Harry?

Coulson interrupted, “Hadrian do you mind if I introduce Harry?”

Hadrian rolled but eyes a moment before closing them. Again, they opened and Steve saw the eyes of the man who had greeted him when he first got on the plane. The man’s face changed completely, from closed off and cold, to open and happy to be there. Steve couldn’t get his head around it. And what he said before –

“Hi Steven Rogers! Hi Phil Coulson!”

“Hello, Harry,” Phil replied, smiling just as wide as he was before returning to what he had been doing before talking to Rogers. Steve sat on the opposite side of the plane, not sure if it was because he didn’t want to be near the phenomenon that was Hadrian or Harry or Bob for whatever he knew, of because it was closest. But he sat down and tried not to stare.

“So Steve Rogers what is it you do then?” Harry tilted his head in childlike curiosity.

“I’m a SHIELD Operative.”

“Cool!” Harry exclaimed, then, “So you’re a like a secret agent?”

“Yeah.”

_He is a secret agent._

Harry nodded absently before being distracted by the ceiling and sighing.

And then the Helicarrier appeared almost suddenly through the window of the plane and Harry leapt to the space between the two pilots and stared out. It floated in the middle of the sea like a rubber duckie in the middle of a bath too big for itself. At least that’s what Harry thought when they flew around the ship, waiting for the all clear to land. Hadrian did not think so simply, nor so childish and was constantly aware of the mirror in his satchel.

Coulson stood behind him and looked out with Harry, who was beaming for reasons only Harry knew. Hadrian kind of knew why he was smiling, just didn’t understand how that could warrant a smile, let alone a shit eating grin. Harry thought perhaps Coulson should sit down because he might fall and-

_You’re standing._

“Yeah, but Coulson’s older than me,” Harry whispered almost silently.

_And you’re younger than him, what difference does it make?_

“Are you calling me a child? Is that what you’re saying?” Harry whispered quietly, his chin lifting.

Y _ou’re not a child, Harry. . ._

“Don’t be condescending!” Harry snapped suddenly.

Coulson saw the pilot flinch and the plane wobbled slightly before righting itself. It had been silent previously and Harry had just startled the pilot.

“It’s alright, Soldier,” Coulson whispered. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t _want_ to get used to it,” the pilot hissed. The plane tilted forwards in descent and Harry gripped himself tight, doing nothing to ensure his own safety.

“Who said they wanted your opinion anyway?” Harry hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as they flew towards the tarmac.

_No one did, but that doesn’t stop me. . ._

“Well, stop!”

_What if I don’t want to?_

“Want then! Want all you like! Want want want want want want want. WAAAAAAANNNTUH!”

_What if I wanted Captain America?_

Harry ripped his eyes open and peered behind him at Steven Rogers, who visibly jerked his head down back to the computer he had in his suddenly stiff hands, “He’s alright I guess, just don’t get me involved.”

_We have the same body, Harry. Besides I was joking. I wouldn’t touch anyone within a ten-foot pole._

“What would you touch within a ten-foot pole?”

_Pizza and Stark’s lab. . ._

“Was that an euphemism?”

_What?! NO!_

“Stark does have a nice – “ Harry jolted and stared up at the ceiling before Hadrian lowered his head, glaring.

“Laboratory. He was going to say laboratory,” Hadrian growled, and lashed a hand out to grab the seats of the pilots as the wheels touched down and they were rolling along the tarmac. He jolted but otherwise stayed perfectly still where he squatted.

They came to a stop and the back hatch opened to reveal a bustling ship full of what were either soldiers, sailors, agents, crew or payed actors.

“They aren’t actors,” Hadrian muttered and stood, adjusting the strap across his shoulder. “You’ll have to stay hidden so the Avengers take us seriously. I swear to God if you do something stupid-“

_I won’t. But you do realise you’re talking to yourself?_

“I – “ Hadrian dug into the satchel and pulled out a decoy phone. “Am not talking to myself, Harry.”

_Dammit._

As one the three of them walked off the plane and onto the tarmac, which was warm under Hadrian’s dark blue converse shoes. The breeze hit them then. The smell of salt and the fresh air reminded them of a time hiding out in a place that should never have been what it was. It should have been a home of happiness instead of distress and hiding. Hadrian frowned.

“Agent Romanoff, this is Captain Rogers,” Coulson greeted, but Hadrian stared with empty eyes out to sea, where the blue was never ending.

“Ma’am,” Rogers said.

“Hi,” she replied. “They need you at the bridge. They’re starting the lift off.”

“See you there.” Coulson moved off towards the building on the ship and Harry, Steve and Agent Romanoff were left to wander the tarmac.

“There’s quite the buzz around here; finding you in the ice. I thought Coulson was going to swoon,” her lips twitched. “Did he ask you to sign his Captain America trading cards?”

“Trading cards?” Steve winced.

“They’re vintage. He’s very proud.” Romanoff turned to Hadrian, “Fury told me we’d have a new recruit but didn’t tell me your name. So how can you help find Loki and the tesseract?”

It wasn’t an insult. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to find the tesseract, but if we do, then I’ll be able to hide it where no one will ever be able to find it.”

Actually, it’ll just be in his satchel, but save for him, no one would ever be able to get into it. Ever.

“Wherever you put it, it’ll be found again,” Natasha said.

“On the contrary,” Hadrian corrected. “I have hidden many things that have never been found for centuries. But that’s not – “

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Natasha interrupted. “But did you say _centuries?”_

“But that’s not why Fury asked me to help. Actually I’m not sure what I can do that won’t jeopardise my –“

Hadrian blinked, “Anonymity. Oh, you son of a bitch!”

_Perhaps this world is like the one in Superman. We could wear a costume._

“Oh. Never mind then.”

They approached a haggard looking man greying at the temples.

“Doctor Banner?” Steve asked.

“Oh. Yeah, hi,” The man replied. “They told me you’d be coming.”

“Word is you can find the cube.”

“Is that the only word on me?”

“Only word I care about.”

_He likes correcting people’s gamma!_

Hadrian looked to the sky before groaning and face palming, the smack echoing and drawing the attention of Banner and Steve.

“Did I say something?” Steve said.

“No, Harry’s just being an idiot.”

_Am not!_

“Are too, you little whelp.”

“Uhhh,” Banner’s eyes were wide and he turned to Steve. “Is he okay?”

Steve replied, “He’s like a strange version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”

Hadrian narrowed his eyes at the man. “It’s not like that.”

_It kind of is._

Hadrian growled.

_Okay, fine. God._

“Thank you!” Hadrian threw his hands in the air seconds before they noticed the crew beginning to put on head gear that looked to be for breathing properly. Hadrian’s brows pinched.

“Gentlemen, you might want to step inside,” Natasha said. “It’s going to get a little harder to breathe.”

“Is this a submarine?” Hadrian couldn’t believe Fury wanted Harry in a submarine. Really? The little devil that murdered a whole planet because he loved it too much? Fury really was insane.

But Banner bet him to it, “Really? They want me in a submerged pressurized metal container?”

The ship began whirring and the shouting of men filled the laneway as they buckled down the planes and other random stuff not stuck down properly. The sea churned at the edges, but more so further away in a circular area, but it wasn’t from going down.

From the water rose two massive fan-like structures that Hadrian knew were going to take them to the sky.

“Oh, no.” Banner laughed hysterically, “This is much worse.”

Hadrian had similar thoughts, worried about the consequences of falling, of being bombed at, of malfunctioning, of losing control, but he saw the look on Banner’s face and knew none of these would come close to the disaster that they would face if whatever Banner was exploded through. Hadrian would try to fix it before he killed everyone. He would.

Nothing could get past Hadrian if he really wanted to defeat it. Not even the tesseract itself.

So, they all turned towards the building and went inside.

***

Hadrian looked around at the control room with a keen eye, spotted Fury, then retreated to the farthest corner. He did not want to talk to that man, not now.

Natasha walked further into the room, while Steve and Banner wandered around, looking at things.

“We’re at level, sir,” a woman said curtly to Fury.

“Good,” he said, looking out the window. “Let’s vanish.”

Hadrian closed his eyes as he felt the distinct feeling of turning invisible. It was the feeling he felt every time he slipped on the invisibility cloak to sneak past someone or something. His hands patted the wall behind him blindly and was reassured that although the Helicarrier wasn’t able to be seen, he was. Hadrian sighed and opened his eyes.

Fury greeted them, “Gentlemen.”

Steve strolled past Fury as he handed the head of SHIELD a ten-dollar note. Hadrian didn’t want to know what that was about. Didn’t care either, but cared when Fury turned his attention onto him.

“You came.”

Hadrian rolled his eyes, “Well done, Fury. You see me and figure out that I am, in fact, here.”

Fury didn’t take the bait.

“Why?”

“Why did I come?” Hadrian echoed, “Well, let’s say I now have a reason to save this world.”

Fury’s one visible eye stared for a second longer before understanding that Hadrian would never enlighten him on the reason, not in a million years. He wouldn’t risk it.

Fury began talking with Banner and Hadrian stepped backwards into the wall through a crack in space made of nothing but emptiness; a void of oblivion that only they could manipulate and found himself in a laboratory with high tech equipment left untouched. This wasn’t Tony Stark’s lab but it was close enough for him to dream.

_You’re ridiculous._

“No I’m not,” Hadrian protested to an empty room, loud enough to be considered talking to himself as if he was another person and not just a method to continue doing something or talking himself into doing something. Although they were two different people, who were one. Hadrian decided it was best for everyone if he just stopped thinking. That way they wouldn’t suffer from his over preparation.

“You want to come through?” Hadrian asked.

_No. Not if it increases the risk of destroying the world. Just. . .could you. . ?_

Hadrian sighed and laid down gently on the ground in a fetal position facing away from the door. Harry echoed the sigh in their head as Hadrian sifted the satchel to cradle his head so it wasn’t against the hard floor. He closed his eyes and shut the world out.

***

A sharp poke against his shoulder and Hadrian shuddered awake, panic flooding him like a tidal wave. His arm shot out, his hand wrapping around the ankle and Hadrian sent a shock of Crucio through the man who dared touch him.

Screams filled the lab of a man in great agony, and the equally shocked gasp of another. The body fell to the floor with a thump, shuddering and trembling, little gasps of pain filling the lab. Hadrian’s eyes drew to the blue circle barely visible through the man’s black shirt.

Hadrian cursed, and pulled out a pain-relieving potion from his satchel and forced it down Tony Stark’s throat. He shouldn’t have touch Hadrian, really. It was his own fault.

“What did you do to him?” Banner demanded, finally crouching next to Tony as the trembling began fading.

Tony moaned, his fist clenching and unclenching, “I’ve heard of a dangerous touch, but my God! That is dangerous. That the hell?”

“Don’t ever touch me again,” Hadrian growled. “That was your warning shot, next time I’m aiming for your head.”

“You never said not to!” Banner argued, helping Tony sit up, “He didn’t know.”

Hadrian narrowed his eyes, “Don’t do it again.”

Tony grimaced, “I won’t.” He winched as he rolled his shoulders and neck. “Definitely not.”

Harry giggled.

Hadrian hissed, “Stop laughing!” and stood up, only to turn their backs on them and mutter to himself.

Tony shared a confused look with Banner.

_Stop going straight for Crucio, Hadrian._

“I can’t help it, sometimes I feel the need to – “

_Well stop feeling the need to cause people physical pain for daring to do what it is every human does._

“Well maybe I don’t want to be human!” Hadrian snapped, “Maybe you should stop loving things to death!”

“Well maybe you should let me in!” Harry roared, uncharacteristically loud and sane. Harry began crying in great wrenching sobs that hurt his chest, “D-don’t yell at me Hadrian, it’s not fair. Stop crying. No because you’re so mean. Stop being a child. I’m not a child! I’m not a child! I’m not a ch – STOP CRYING HARRY!”

The room exploded.

Glass and metal and plastic shattered where it stood. The loud boom rattling the ship and people fell to the ground as they thought the blast came from outside, but Coulson knew. Fury knew. They both knew where it was and clenched their eyes shut. Banner and Tony cried out and shielded their faces, shrapnel from a non-existent bomb shredded their skin, but Harry remained completely untouched.

The lab had turned into a disaster, but then, as suddenly as it occurred, the pieces of broken equipment, glass and metal reverted quickly, as if on rewind and settled to what it once was. The glass embedded in Banner and Tony’s arms retracted through their skin, tearing it more before settling to where it came.

Harry fell to the floor, silent. Banner and Tony panted. Miraculously, Banner remained his normal hue of pink, his eyes did not turn green and Tony watched Harry’s trembling back with wide eyes.

The door flung open and Coulson strode in, took in the blood on Banner and Tony, then his eyes landed on Harry. He strode forwards and crouched in front of Harry.

“Harry?” Coulson whispered, “Are you in control?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Harry croaked. “I didn’t want to but Hadrian made me so angry and he said to stop loving things. I tried, I did! You believe me, right?”

Coulson nodded his head and Harry buried his face in his hands. Coulson didn’t dare touch him in fear of creating another outburst.

He turned his attention to Banner and Tony, “You’re in control, Banner?”

Banner said, “Yes.”

“Take yourself and Stark to the medic wing and get cleaned up. I’ll take care of Harry.”

They left, limping quietly, out the door and Coulson was left along with Harry, who was silent.

“C’mon, let’s get you to your quarters,” Coulson grunted as he stood, holding his hand out in offering. Harry lifted his head and look sadly at him, before taking the offering and standing.

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered.

“It’s alright; you cleaned up.”

“I didn’t mean to do that either.” Harry swallowed, “Perhaps Hadrian’s right. You have a better chance at saving the world than I do of staying in control.”

Coulson pursed his lips and shook his head, “I’m sure, eventually, you’ll be able to control whatever is making your magic react so violently. And then, maybe you could work on becoming one personality.”

It had been so long that they were no longer scared of the likelihood of their separate personalities causing them to stop existing as two and fade into one.

“It has been over a thousand years and we have failed to do both of those things,” Harry sighed. “I supposed I doesn’t really matter anymore. This may well kill us.”

“I doubt that.”

Harry smiled sadly. “You’re right. It’s unlikely anything could kill us.”

Suddenly, Coulson’s earpiece crackled and the distorted voice of Fury spoke indistinguishable words that Harry wished he understood.

“Copy that.” Coulson focused his attention back on Harry, “They found Loki.”

**Chapter Seven**

Hadrian saw the man seconds before the crowd sunk to the floor in a reluctant bow to a man they knew didn’t deserve it.

The Trickster God stood over the frightened group of people with a smug grin on his face.

“Is this not your natural state?” He drawled, spreading his arms around him. “Are you not made to be ruled over? Are you not happy that the choice of living is taken out of your hands? Is it not your natural state to bow down?”

Then Hadrian saw the old man slowly get to his feet and turn around to face the frightening figure and said, “Not to men like you.”

“There are no men like me!” Loki laughed.

The man said, “There will _always_ be men like you.”

Hadrian closed his eyes. It was men like this who really understood how the world worked and who also died for daring to point it out and unless someone intervened this man would die by the blue blast resonating from the scepter. Hadrian lunged forwards to intercept the shot, but Steve got there first. Loki snarled and broke the air with another blue streak of extraterrestrial matter aiming right for Steve. Harry howled in his head, before stuttering to a stop as he realise the shield deflected it, leaving both of them dumfounded, Hadrian’s eye brows rising to his hair line.

Steve ran at him, but was thrown backward by the sheer pressure of the blast on his shield, landing on his back. He sprung up ready to fight again, but Hadrian stepped forwards right in front of Loki, blocking his view.

“Move!” Loki screamed, “Or I’ll kill you where you stand!”

Hadrian strode forwards his hands out stretched and Loki fired.

The blue lightning sizzled in the air as it flew towards him, but Hadrian walked with unwavering grace towards the trickster god as the blue touched him and disappeared with no sound, seeming to have absorbed into Hadrian’s body.

Loki faltered at seeing Hadrian alive and well, enough for Hadrian to fling out his hand and Loki’s staff rose into the air, leaving him scrambling, wandering what the hell this man thought he was doing. Who he was dealing with, who stood above him as is he had any hope of defeating Loki must not know who he was; a mystery to the dark-haired mortal. Loki snarled as he leapt up to grab the staff from the air, but was unable to move his feet from the ground.

Steve took the staff in confused hands as Hadrian stared at the look of fury on Loki’s face and was reminded of another villain he had faced when he was still a child.

“Hello,” he said.

Loki lunged for him, his hands reaching out to choke the arrogant mortal that dared to face him, expecting him to win the battle, expecting Hadrian to surrender.

“You –“ Loki screamed.

“My name is Hadrian James Potter-Black-Peverell,” Hadrian continued. “I doubt you’ve ever heard of me.”

Loki found himself stuck to the floor and the blood drain from his face, leaving him paler than he was before. What creature would ever be able to overcome his own magical abilities? What being was able control a God’s abilities? What mortal would be able overtake him, unless. . .

“I’d like for you to call off whatever it is you’re planning with the tesseract.”

. . .He wasn’t mortal at all.

“It won’t end well, Loki,” Hadrian went on, taking a further step towards the god. “You will find beings beyond even your abilities.”

“And who would they be then?” Loki sneered, struggling to lift his feet. “I don’t see them anymore.”

Hadrian tilted his head, “On the contrary, Loki. They are in plain sight. They are here and there and everywhere and nowhere at the same time. They are in front of you and behind you and where you can’t see and where you can. Everywhere you think they aren’t they are. Everywhere you think they are they aren’t. Loki, they hide until they need to be there.”

“I don’t need cryptic messages, Odin does that enough,” Loki said. “Talk plainly.”

Hadrian smiled crookedly, “They are humans, child. They are the spirits of the dead. They are the hopes of those that dare to dream. They are the mortals you think you are better than, who have the fight to protect what is theirs.”

“Mortals are nothing,” Loki sneered.

“They are everything,” Hadrian whispered and stepped back just as the plane hovered above them.

“Surrender your weapon, or else,” Agent Romanoff’s voice sounded seconds before a heavy metal song roared over the speakers and a man made of metal flew onto the scene, unnecessarily aiming all artillery at the god.

“. . .Reindeer games,” The robotic voice intoned.

Loki spared a glance at Hadrian, his eyes clouded over with contempt, before slowly raising his hands.

“Good choice,” Tony said and lowered his own weapons.

Hadrian shook his head and walked away, already disappointed with the way Tony acted.

_Do you like Stark’s laboratory anymore?_

Behind him, he heard Loki’s arrest, but kept walking.

**Chapter Eight**

The clouds were puffy and big, the colossal blue sky behind it too huge for Harry’s brain to process completely. Hadrian sighed internally, shifting his satchel so it’s protected by his feet.

“I don’t know about you, Hadrian,” Harry murmured, quietly tracing pretty patters on the glass with erasable markers. Triangles and circles and lines and flowers and swirls interconnected with multi-coloured ink. “But this is fun.”

The clicking of keyboards by quick fingers, high heels that shouldn’t be worn in the middle of a war tapping on the hard floor, the whirr of engines from both the Helicarrier and the computers almost overbearingly loud, the barely-there chatter of the neatly dressed workers or crew members or actors or sea creatures or whatever they were, too loud for Harry to be able to properly cope with. The pens he found in a drawer somewhere deep in the bows of the ship.

He probably shouldn’t be drawing on the glass at the very front of the Helicarrier.

_I don’t know if they want us doing this._

“Don’t care.” Harry capped the pink and began drawing the stick figure’s shirt in yellow. Happy colours. Perhaps it will help. “What should I draw next?”

_Hmm. . .A Platypus? An octopus? A computer? Clouds like the ones outside?_

Harry thinned his lips as he carefully coloured in the lines he already drew. The girl had a lovely smile, and eyes up tilted like she was smiling too hard. Harry isn’t the best drawer in the universe. “Maybe the clouds. I’m going to draw clouds next.”

The doors slid open and heavy footsteps came right up to Harry and stopped. Fury’s shadow reached over him, tall and big, but Harry was trying to focus on what colour he should use next to bother talking first.

A few seconds passed before Fury spoke.

“Loki wishes to speak to you.”

“No.” Hadrian looked over his shoulder, the red marker hovering over the glass splattered with their fingerprints.

“He will only tell you where the tesseract is,” Fury growled, looking down at Hadrian’s uncaring stare.

_Yes._

Hadrian rolled his eyes to the ceiling and turned back around. The drawings blurred as he looked past them to the clouds behind. “The conversation will go nowhere, Harry.”

_You don’t know that._

“Yes I do, because of – “ Hadrian glanced over his shoulder again and shook his head. “Because of the things that happened.”

Fury made a noise as if to protest, but Hadrian picked up the cloth and cleaned the marker from the window, before standing up.

They barely came to Fury’s chest, but somehow Hadrian was bigger than everyone in the room.

“I do this last thing, and I am going, okay? This is the last time you will ever see me,” Hadrian said, creeping closer, his satchel cradled close to his chest as Harry wanted even though what they’d put in there would never be stolen or taken out by anyone but them.

Fury said nothing for a moment, his features shifting enough for Hadrian to see clearly. He did not like Hadrian’s demands, but must accept them so he could get what he wanted from them.

“Very well,” Fury said at last before turning around and leaving the room.

Harry bent down and picked up the markers from the floor, shoving them haphazardly into the bag before hurtling after the giant man.

***

The cell Loki was locked in held nothing but the man himself and Harry suspected that SHEILD had extra barriers preventing Loki’s escape. Harry just didn’t quite know what they were.

The Norse trickster god stood still in the middle of the cell, gazing at Harry’s curious wandering around the containment area, specifically the computer in the landing.

“You are like and unlike anything I’ve ever seen,” Loki breathed, stepping forwards until he was pressed against the glass.

Harry grinned and skipped to the glass, pressing his hand against Loki’s own. There was nothing sane about him and Loki almost stepped back.

“We understand that you will not tell SHEILD where the tesseract is, only us.” Harry dug into his pocket, taking out the black marker and drawing a triangle.

Loki furrowed his brows. “What?”

“I see this confuses you,” Harry said solemnly. “I’m going to give you three guesses before I draw the next component.”

Loki’s mouth opened and closed. “I’m not doing this.”

“Yes you will or you’re going to get into a lot of trouble.” Harry clucked his tongue and pointedly capped the marker before shoving it into his bag and crossing his arms.

Loki snarled. “I am Loki Odinson. I will not resort this this childish game!”

“Okay. Tell me where the tesseract is.” Harry rocked on his feet, hands behind his back.

Loki had never been more confused by a mortal-non-mortal in all his existence. He opened and closed his mouth again, not making any sound.

Harry clucked his tongue. “I knew you were lying. You cannot tell us where the tesseract is because you don’t know where it is either.”

Stark’s voice cut through his ear piece. “What!?”

Harry turned to stare at the camera in the corner of the room and winked with both eyes. He’s not a good winker.

Hadrian faced Loki, plunged his hand into his satchel and removed the glowing tesseract which sputtered, and died seconds after he lifted it to show the trickster god. It was quite a lot smaller than Harry thought it would be. He honestly pictured it to be three times the size with the way SHEILD and the gods were going on about it.

“Have any guesses yet, Loki Odinson?” Hadrian mused, gazing at the cube, ignoring the sudden yelling on the other side of the door into the containment room. Fury was there. The Avengers looked on with trepidation. Loki was blank-faced.

“It’s a triangle,” Loki said.

“No.”

“A logo for a company.”

Hadrian had a feeling Loki was just randomly guessing what it was instead of truly trying and getting through it as fast as possible to get the next clue.

“Your family’s sigil.”

“Wrong again, Loki Odinson.”

Harry drew the line down the middle, slowly, slowly, slowly.

Loki’s face drained of blood as he raised his hand and traced the circle in the middle with a trembling finger.

Harry grinned. “Good job, Loki Odinson.”

Loki’s legs collapsed beneath him and he crawled to the other end of the cell.

Away.

Loki must get away from the Master of Death. Loki had heard stories. Loki had heard nightmares about this creature that had no right existing. Loki did not want to look at them, Loki kept them at his back. They couldn’t get in the cell. They couldn’t –

Loki reached the other side and lifted his head.

The Master of Death was there, staring at him with the Cloak of Invisibility wrapped around his shoulders, the front open to show the ridiculous outfit beneath. Loki had been told of the cloak, but not the different personalities. With his emerald eyes Loki had heard of. With his black hair Loki had read about. With his glasses Loki knew existed.

Didn’t want to exist. Gods, Loki wished he never existed if it meant he didn’t have to face the Master of Death.

Loki’s back collided with a solid structure in the middle of the cell and his muscles locked up and he choked on nothing as he launched himself once again away from the being older than himself, older than humanity, older than his magic.

Older than time itself.

Away!

Must get away!

The Master of Death was in his cell. Loki slowly turned around, mouth floundering on words that would not come forth.

His eyes found the Elder wand in his hand, the Resurrection Stone moving between spindly fingers. But Loki saw it.

And wished he didn’t.

“NO!” Loki screamed as tears began flowing down his face. “Please!”

His back pressed against the glass as the Master of Death approached him, but there was nothing in his eyes.

“Fuck you Loki,” Hadrian and Harry whispered. “We warned you.”

Loki cried out as he closed his eyes and turned his head, waiting for the inevitable end of his life.

It never came.

His heart beat too fast inside his chest.

The cell was silent. Loki opened his eyes to empty space and what looked like the entire SHEILD group tumble into the room.

The Master of Death was gone.

**Epilogue**

_Somewhere in Surrey, London after Loki realised who – or what - he was facing._

Harry James Potter stared up at the night sky, the momentum of the swing making it look like the stars were spinning. Harry knew the stars spun, or rather the earth spun, but not as fast as it was now and certainly not back and forth.

The trees of the park rustled in the subtle wind and he heard crickets chirping somewhere in the grass surrounding him. His hair ruffled.

He just turned sixteen, but he never felt much like celebrating another year on this poor excuse for a planet.

The swing beside him creaked.

Harry dragged him feet along the ground, slowed down and looked at the other swing only to see himself.

Skinnier, paler, quieter.

Harry snapped his eyes closed.

“Did I time turn again?” Harry hissed, turning his head away and opening his eyes.

“No.” His voice, but made of steel. “No, you most certainly did not.”

Harry slowly, silently, turned his head back and gazed at the figure that looked so much like him and yet looked nothing like him.

Hadrian raised his head and locked eyes with his other self, the figure he hadn’t seen in the mirror for over a million years.

“Who are you?” Harry Potter whispered.

Harry grinned. “I am as you are. He is as we are and we are all the same. It is not a question of who we are but what are we doing here, in this moment, when we should not be in this dimension anymore. I said we would leave, but we needed to see you first.”

Harry Potter blinked. “Um. . .what?

“Do not hold all three objects at once, Harry Potter.” Hadrian and Harry intoned, “Tell Dumbledore that you will not become what he has tried to make you become. It will cause only unhappiness for you and yours.”

“What three objects?”

Hadrian stood, not answering Harry’s enquiry. “Say hello to Luna for me, would you? It’s been terribly long since she has had her vision confirmed. It seems only fitting it be her friend and the doppelganger of her friend that does so.”

They walked away and Harry Potter sat stunned on the swing.

“Wait!” Harry Potter shouted, hurtling for the retreating figure. “Why won’t anyone tell me anything? What three objects!?”

They paused, and looked over their shoulder. “The Deathly Hallows, Harry Potter. Do not touch them, or you will relive what I have been living for the last millennia. This war you are in is only a small taste of what is to come. Stay away from them, Harry Potter. Stay away.”

Harry Potter growled under his breath, fed up with riddles and half-truths, and stretched out his hand to stop the – the _thing._

But the world imploded and Harry Potter was knocked onto his back, ears ringing.

He lifted his head and there was no sign of them.

He was once again, after fourteen years, the only Harry James Potter on the planet.

**END**


End file.
